The Winds of Crowns and Wolves (13 page)

Tears began to well up in the corners of
Neach’s eyes as he held this wolf in his arms. For what he had
learned earlier, this too was a member of his people. These very
wolves were from the same lineage as he himself was. With the
sleeve of his right arm, Neach wiped the tears away and removed the
wolf from his legs.

He carried the wolf to the depths of the
tall grass and laid him down soft. For such a magnificent
existence, this wolf had come to a measly demise. It didn’t feel
right to Neach. For every moment this beast had seen in its years,
it was ultimately destined to conclude its days helpless against
the forces of life.

The walk back to the camp was somber. Clouds
had moved in and were threatening to unleash their rain down upon
Neach as he trekked the trail back toward Fenris and the warmth of
the fire. It was late in the afternoon, and the young man who had
recently left his home village was now hardened by the harsh
realities of life. The tears which had careened down his face were
now dry, and his heart had frozen back to the place it was
before.

As he entered the encampment, he saw Fenris
standing at the edge of the hut.

“Let me see your blade, son,” Fenris said
coolly, with little imperative.

Without hesitation or response, Neach
removed his knife from his satchel and presented it to his teacher.
The two stood there in silence for a few minutes before Fenris
nodded.

“I am sure today has taken its toll on you,
therefore the next few days will be spent reading. Your final task
will come in a few days, but until then, reflect on what it is you
have learned so far,” he said.

Neach silently acknowledged the sentiments
and headed for the inside of the hut. Fenris looked on with a look
of sympathetic approval, as he had once gone through the same
feelings that Neach was experiencing. Entrance into the House was
not only a blood right, but it was a matter of understanding and
respect. One had to learn the importance of their role in the
House, as well as, the world before they were allowed full access
to its resources.

As Neach crouched into the hut and climbed
into his bed, his thoughts were jumbled into a collection of
fragmented ideas. He had killed animals before; it was part of
growing up in an agrarian community. This was much different than
anything else he had ever experienced. There was a tangible
connection between himself and this wolf. He had a hunger to ask
more questions and probe Fenris for answers, but part of him felt
that it was more appropriate if he let it be for the time
being.

In the morning he would search for answers
within the hallowed pages of the ancient tome which he had grown so
close to, but for now, his bed beckoned for him to retire to the
comfort of his linens: and so he did.

Emotionally, Neach was spent. He awoke early
in the morning, but he lacked the motivation to rise from his bed
and begin his day. Hours passed before he removed his linens and
got dressed. After what felt like a fulfilling period of rest,
Neach still felt sapped. His energy seemed to elude him as he went
about the chores of the camp.

For weeks now, Neach had tended to the water
supply and the collection of fruit for their consumption later in
the day. These items on his agenda seemed to drag on today; all he
desired was to read more from the book.

Hours after his departure from the hut, he
returned bearing fruit and water. The harvest was plentiful today,
and his bucket ran over with the colorful sustenance that is the
fruit of the forest. He placed them before Fenris’ feet and
continued toward his lodging without uttering a single word. Fenris
understood this attitude, as it was similar to his own, when he
first learned of his House.

Into the hut Neach delved, and immediately
withdrew the book from his bag. Its pages had become slightly
tattered in the recent days as he began to use it more. Its color
seemed impervious to the forces of nature, as it remained elegant
and sharp for what could only be perceived as many years.

He opened the book to the page he had left
it on, where he had learned of the method at which wild wolves are
put to rest. As he ran his finger across the words below the
picture, it was translated into terms which he could understand.
What had once read “Yuf dirry ger gillet nurr dirry”, now read
“Into the darkness you step.”

Less surprised by the revelation of the
text, and more concerned with the new found ability to translate
the text with the tip of his finger, Neach began to ravage the book
with the newly found powers of his index.

For hours, he sat on his bed and deciphered
a multitude of excerpts. There were tales that detailed the
creation of the world, the creation of the creatures that roamed
it, the first members of the House, and a section about what it
meant to be a House member.

Their creed appeared simple: Do what is
righteous, do what is just, do what you can, but above all, do what
you must. The melodic structure of this phrase was much more
musical in the original language, but for now, Neach would have to
resort to these translations for a better understanding. He spent
the remainder of the day reading from the text and absorbing as
much information as he felt was physically possible.

Night had fallen and Neach decided that he
must discuss his findings with Fenris to better comprehend
them.

He exited the hut to find Fenris sitting
adjacent to a freshly lit fire, whittling away at a piece of wood.
In his free time, Fenris was fond of the wood craft. It seemed he
was fond of creating many things, as they represented pieces of
himself that existed in the tangible world.

As Neach approached, he could see that
Fenris had only just removed the bark from the outside of the
stick. The real creative work had yet to come, and so he felt it
was appropriate to interject now.

“Hello, boy, what brings you out into this
cold, damp night?” he asked before Neach had even come into his
line of sight.

Silently, Neach sat down across from him on
a log that had been placed there for this very purpose.

“I have come to ask questions, sir: about
the House, about us,” Neach stated bluntly.

Fenris seemed to like the direct nature of
Neach’s propositions. For his naïve attitude at times, Neach had a
way of approaching things with an overt sense of confidence.

“Tell me, boy, what is that nags at your
mind on this night?” Fenris queried.

Neach paused and then continued into his
first inquiry. His confidence had grown exponentially since he had
arrived in the presence of Fenris.

“I was wondering if you could tell me what
exactly the book means by a ‘just and righteous cause’,” Neach
asked.

Fenris chuckled to himself. It was unclear
whether this reaction was warranted due to the nature of the
question, or the speed at which Neach was progressing through the
training regiment, but by his answer the latter appeared more
likely.

“So I see you’ve unlocked the translations.
Well, son, each and every one of us, and by us I mean people, not
just members of this House, abide by a set of morals. A strict list
of rules we feel should be upheld to maintain order within the
chaos of our great world. Our duty as members of the House Goedwig
is to uphold the morals set forth by our ancestors, who came
before. Unlike those who fight for justice in public and shout from
the street corners, our actions must be executed in the shadows.”
Fenris concluded after a rather lengthy response.

Immediately interjecting, Neach asked
another question.

“Fenris, why is it that we must exist in the
shadows only? Surely recognition can be given for such a righteous
deed.” Neach rebuked.

“One thing you will learn, boy, is that men
are created evil. The fault lines of humanity run deep and tremors
will consistently arise from their chasms. By removing ourselves
from the public sphere, we limit the corruption that can take place
within our House. For only in reward can a man find himself valued
at more than the worth of his moral code.” Fenris finished his
statement as he threw a berry into his mouth and chewed down.

This answer sparked more questions than
anything from Neach about the nature of the collective he found
himself within.

“But it is getting late, Neach. Tomorrow you
will be facing your final task, if you’re up to it. I trust that
you will be ready, but for now I suggest you get your rest. You
remind me of myself, a young man in Fletwod trying to turn my hut
into a majestic palace with no resources or time. As of now you
only understand a minimum of what will be fully divulged to you in
time,” Fenris stated as he walked off toward the hut.

He was left alone in the all encroaching
darkness that had consumed the island. In the distance, birds could
still be heard chirping, and the insects of the wood seemed to have
awoken from their winter slumber. The aura of the forest at night
was unlike anything Neach had ever felt. The heat from the day
still hung thick in the air as he sat there in the early night. Fog
emanated from the very pores of the Earth and rose ever so slightly
to hover above the ground. It lingered like a protective layer of
moisture that would ensure the vibrant foliage would remain alive
in the morning.

It took minutes before Neach arose from his
seated position. He headed back toward his lodging with a multitude
of thoughts bouncing around his head like fish in a crowded river.
As he had learned previously, however, this frantic mind would
prevent him from sleeping if he did not do something about it.

And so, as Neach climbed into his bed, he
fixated his mind upon thoughts of the water. The ocean he had
crossed while travelling to the island. He thought about the
crashing waves and their rhythmic existence. They flowed in and
out, as if bound by an invisible string, at the beck and call of a
superior power which also appeared to be elusive.

In an instant, he was fast asleep. For the
first time since his arrival, sleep came easy. His aching bones and
his ever ailing mind were soothed to sleep with serene songs of
solitude. They sang like canaries to the tune of loneliness, but
their voices transformed it into a much more beautiful existence
than most knew of.

Almost as quickly as he had fallen asleep,
Neach awoke with a shudder. Outside of the hut, Fenris was banging
a pot with a metal rod. It seemed to fit in with his entire
experience that this would be his method of awakening. Abrasive and
generally lacking pretext, this event jolted Neach out of bed and
into the clearing.

To his surprise, what Neach found was a
rather pleasant sight. Fenris had risen early on in the morning to
cook a supple breakfast complete with the finest meats, fruits, and
breads he could offer. Smoked sausages, ripe berries, and fresh
baked bread lined the table which had been set by Fenris. Although
to most this collection would seem rudimentary and make shift, to
Neach it appeared as if it were an oasis in a thirst deprived
desert of satiation.

He sat down across from Fenris and dove head
first into the euphemistic waters that were the plentiful
breakfast. He gorged himself with food and drink, generally
refraining from eye contact with Fenris.

Quite some time into the feast, Fenris broke
the silence.

“Today is the day you become an official
brother, member, and most importantly, a recipient of the
responsibilities of this house,” he said.

Neach nodded in silence. Not much could be
said in response to the bold proclamation made by Fenris. The last
few weeks had served as a way of teaching Neach the
incomprehensible gravity of the position he found himself in.
Himself, as well as, his brothers within the House, were entrusted
with upholding the ethical code set forth in the Toriik Riamendi.
It was distinctly evident from the beginning that the path would
never be clear, but nevertheless, Neach willingly put a foot
forward.

“Come, follow me, son. For it is time you
completed your final task on the island,” Fenris said.

As they walked, Fenris continued to talk to
Neach.

“For all of your questions, you never asked
me if this place had a name,” Fenris stated. Above their heads,
birds travelled in groups, chirping as they flew by. The creatures
of the wood surrounded them on all sides, an envelope of innocent
beauty.

“Well, what is it?” Neach asked rather
bluntly.

“It’s called Rosalia. The name comes from
the flowers that bloom just across the water. Rosalia in our native
tongue means “already bloomed”. This land is fertile with the love
of the world: the creatures which inhabit it, the trees which have
born their roots into this soil. All exists in unity because it is
untouched by man. It has bloomed, but hopefully, its bloom may be a
lengthy one,” Fenris said. He had a way of articulating things in a
way which told a story in a matter of a few words.

They had headed on the same path as the day
previous, ending up at the base of the hills which rose up from the
ground.

“I must stay here, but you, you’re going to
the top,” Fenris demanded in a much more passive manner than
usual.

As Neach headed up the side of the hill, the
trees were shed from its grassy sides. Near the top of the hill,
all foliage had disappeared. The top of this bulbous mound bore
nothing except the green grass which was found all around the
Kingdom.

The air seemed to escape Neach’s grasp as he
turned around on the top of this hill. In every direction, all the
eye could see was a horizon of bliss. The canopies which provided
such little sunlight below, created a sort of thatched roof, which
contained the light from the ground below. To one side, the
mainland of the Kingdom was supremely evident in the line of sight.
To another, complete nothingness. The sea seemed to expand for an
eternity, as a blue blanket draped over the Earth.